


That Kind of Love

by Irma7x



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Birthday Sex, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, Fingering, Fluff and Smut, Married Couple, Multiple Orgasms, Pegging, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prostate Massage, Senator!reader - Freeform, Sex Toys, marriage in secret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:02:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24174058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irma7x/pseuds/Irma7x
Summary: Trying to break free of the control that ruled his everyday life, Hux asks for you to try something different together in the bedroom. You carry it through on his birthday.
Relationships: Armitage Hux & Reader, Armitage Hux/Reader, Armitage Hux/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	That Kind of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my here we go! I wanted to get this out yesterday in honour of Domhnall's birthday but oh well. This is, (at least in my opinion) the most explicit smut I've written so I hope I did a good job! <3 This is set in the Enjoy The Silence 'verse but can be read as a stand alone work.

_...“Would you be willing to try something new with me?” He exhaled, lying on his back with you atop his chest as the sweat on your naked bodies cooled. The last vestiges of moonlight draped across your bodies as the night came to a close, just like your time together at your hideout home in Arkanis._   
_“Anything, if it’s something you really want” Your reply was whispered against his ear as you bit and nibbled on it, still on the high of your afterglow..._

The First Order was just nearing the peak of power, it was at its prime. Fundraisers, Galas and dinner parties alike were commonly thrown in select Core world planets, in favour of strengthening existing relations and forging new alliances. You never missed a single one, disguising your impeccable attendance as a Senator’s duty.  
If only they knew.

Tonight’s event was the inauguration of a new Cultural Centre at the heart of Canto Bight. As a Corellian Ambassador of Arts and Culture, it was almost mandatory for you to make an appearance and even give a speech at the opening ceremony. You were proud that the big inauguration kicked off with an exhibition composed of emerging artists, and all across the board the work was excellent. It was an enjoyable show, no doubt, even the food was good. It was the socializing, you loathed -- it only dragged on, for after the opening, the party had moved to Canto Bight’s Grand Hotel, to a more exclusive setting.  
It was unbearable.

Especially because you had had one thing on your mind all throughout, and the butterflies caged within your stomach only got wilder as the evening progressed.

  
. _..“Have you...have you heard of pegging?” your ears peaked at the suggestion. Yes you knew of it, but it had never occurred to you -- never imagined yourself in that scenario._  
 _“Yeah...would you- is that what you want to try?”_  
 _He turned to look at you with a smirk, but his eyes betrayed his anxiousness, not in fear of being mocked for expressing his want, but unsure of your reaction to the idea. Would you be into it?..._

After you had fulfilled your fair share of socializing, you were swift to excuse yourself, if only to cool down a little bit.

It was nearing midnight as you stood outside, shivering cold as the breeze of the ocean chilled the bits of skin that your long gown revealed. Your hands graze over the stone railing of the balcony in an attempt to ground yourself -- you couldn’t go back to the ballroom, not for a while at least. You were fed up; of the small talk, of being pulled and pulled away into mindless conversation, away from him. From Hux. It killed you to pretend that you weren’t married -- to not being able to walk arm in arm with him, as the

power couple you truly were.  
What a sight you would’ve made: Hux in his uniform and you, in your long-sleeved, black gown, which trailed beside you as if you were the deadliest bride of them all; it had a deep V neckline that reached mid-sternum, the skirt had an opening that revealed the side of your leg and the fabric was held together by a golden belt at the waist that aided in creating an hourglass shape.

It killed you to be so close, yet so far away. It was the dilemma of your relationship.

It killed to wait.

  
. _..“I don’t know how to go about it though, I’d need to prepare”_

_“Way ahead of you”_

_He was eager as he had sat up in bed and pulled out his datapad, immediately opening up all the sites he had bookmarked on how to get started with pegging. You had sat beside him, resting your cheek on his shoulder while rubbing his back absentmindedly._

_Years beside him, you were thoroughly accustomed to Hux’s pragmatic approach to things. Neither of you were self-conscious about opening up to one another, of voicing your needs or concerns; matters that needed to be addressed were dealt without a fuss. Hux had been shaped as such the hard way, surrounded by coldness and practicality ever since he was a child, through his years in the Academy and then The First Order._   
_So together, you went through articles and even picked out several accessories that you bought through your private comm channel and ordered to be delivered to your home in Corellia._

_A plan had been set in motion…_

You’re pulled from your thoughts as a warm coat is draped around your shoulders, the clean, comforting scent of your husband enveloping you. You turn to see his smile, as bright as the Cantonian lights; his genuine smile was as marvellous as seeing stars on a clear night when you live on a polluted, industrial planet -- like your home in Corellia. It was a sight you never took for granted.

“What are you doing here? you’re going to freeze to death”

“I just wanted some fresh air, I’m so tired of this”

“You want to leave now?” A mischievous smirk adorned his words.  
You sigh as you reach for him, hugging yourself to his side with one arm while clutching the sleeve of his coat with the other. “It’s still too early, the party seems to be in full swing. These damn animals...I’m usually all tucked in bed at this hour”

He snickers and pulls you even closer as you both gaze over the city’s skyline, at the masses having drinks and celebrating down by the sea.

“What were you thinking about?”

You close your eyes and conjure up the memories you had been replaying over and over again, since the very minute you woke up today up to the moment you landed in Canto Bight and checked into the hotel.

“Are you nervous? We can always do it some other time, (Y/N)”

You turn in his arms; your palms rake up his chest until each hand settles on the sides of his neck -- thumbs teasing at his pulse points, the bump of his Adam’s apple. Against the backdrop of fancy lights and glamorous buildings, his green eyes glint like emeralds -- orbs that are slowly being overpowered by his dilating pupils.

“Not at all, tonight’s the night”

You inch closer to him, until your lips ghost over his with a hint of a kiss.

When you’re about to dive in, loud and bursting cheers coming from the beach interrupts you. There was alway some celebration or another going on at Canto Bight, it was the

partying resort for the wealthiest. Fireworks of every color contrast against the black sky, showering the both of you as they signaled the midnight hour had come.

“Besides,” you smile against his lips. “It’s your birthday”

  
\--

  
When you finally reach your hotel room, you’re giggling like two naughtly children who just escaped the adult’s to steal all the desserts at the diner party. So unlike the image you projected in public. But that was exactly how you two had met.

Best friends since you were children.

It made sex between you still novel, still precious -- all there was to discover and learn you did together. Each time you touched, you undressed, felt like unravelling a new secret, another layer of this person that had grown up with you, like discovering all the symbols within an artwork that an untrained eye couldn’t see before.

When you open the door to your room, Hux is immediately all over you. His lips latch onto yours, kissing you, licking you; hands roaming over your curves, moaning at the feel of the lacey layers of your dress.

You’re just as eager in your responses, biting his lips, holding onto whatever part of him you could grab as his growing exhilaration felt like a torrent and you were but a mere boat trying to sail on against the currents.

You had to regain control.

You pull him off you by the chin; your hold on his jaw is firm, your eyes stern yet foggy with anticipation as you speak. “Undress for me”

You turn around to retrieve the things you had hid away inside the room’s safe: one black strap-on with its corresponding 7 inch dildo, a bottle of lube and a vibrating egg. Tingles are charging up inside you as you set the articles on the bed. You had planned this together -- had imagined how this moment would go but now that the time has come, you’re over the moon with anticipation. You loved this, you lived for this, for experimenting with Hux, getting to know him like no one ever would.

You dim the lights to 30%, enough to see clearly, but just right to set the mood. The room is instantly bathed in warmth; bone-white and golden furnishings dissipating into ocres and beiges. But standing out from the muted colors is Armitage: bear save for his boxer briefs; lean planes of ivory skin and sharp angles, a foundation for soft little curves here and there, silken ginger hairs and blonde freckles. A red flush is blooming in his chest and ears as his eyes follow your every move.

“Come here”

Obedient, he follows your index finger and sits on the bed, looking up at you. One of your hands glides through his auburn locks, styling gel having worn off after a long standard day. You pet his head, his cheek, gentle touches that balance out the strict orders.

“Take my dress off”

His line of vision is directly across your breasts, so when he hugs himself to you to reach around for your zipper, he buries his face in them, despite being against the order. You allow it, only because it feels so exquisite; you’re guiding him, forcing him against you so he could bite you, mark you. For someone so sharp and cold, he had such plump lips, hot and wet as he devours your chest.

All the while his palms are tracing your curves, indulging himself before unclasping your gold belt and unzipping the gown. With the dress loose, he slips it off your shoulders, drinking in the sight of your skin, inch by inch, unwrapping his present. If you hadn’t brought up the fact that it was his birthday, he wouldn’t have realized at all. He had never cared for it, for it had never been celebrated, not until you arrived at least. It had always signified the hateful date when an unwanted bastard had been brought into the world. But you -- you always showed as much excitement for his birthday as if it were your own, always going out of your way to send love his way even if you couldn’t physically be there.

He drinks you in, naked before him. A beautiful goddess that never failed to steal his breath away. How he could have ended up with you was beyond him. His dearest friend. He’s drawn to you, compelled to trail kisses up your sternum, to the valley between your soft breasts. “Lie back,” he quietly pleads, “let me please you?”  
His breath fans against your skin, adding to the heat -- adding to the wetness: in the form of sweat, in your mouth that waters at the proposition, in your cunt as juices dampen your underwear. “Please?”

“This is all about you” You sigh, head falling backwards as you feel his rough hands on your ass, squeezing, fingers teasing at your entrance; you moan as his fingers produce a squelching sound from you when he kneads, you were so wet you were gonna drip down your inner thighs if he kept winding you up like that.

“Isn’t this my birthday?” he says around a wet kiss to your tummy, tongue dipping and savouring every curve, every bit of flesh. “Lie back”

As soon as you straddle him he’s pulling the both of you back on the bed, opposite to where the pillows laid.

He’s on you like a starving man, lapping up at every last bite of his meal. He nuzzles the side of your neck, the spot that never fails to light up fireworks in the very pit of your belly, just like the ones you had seen outside. You can’t help but laugh, lost in pleasure but also happiness and tenderness all wrapped up in one. He knows how ticklish you are and exploits it, for your laughter was as much as an incentive to him as your moans. He nips and nibbles and kisses below your ear, on the dip of your shoulder and you laugh and laugh until your head nearly hangs off the edge of the bed without even realizing it.

“Hey, don’t you forget who’s in charge here” and that cheeky motherfucker just laughs at the mess he’s made of you, infinitely pleased with himself.

“I can’t stop if you want--”

“Don’t you dare stop!” you pull at his hair and guide him back down to your chest, “I’ll get you back for this”

“I’m looking forward to it” He looks up at you then and it dawns on you; the bags under his eyes. Your Hux...he was so tired all the time, as work progressed with Starkiller Base. You knew of the pressure he was under, mainly imposed by Snoke. Soon he would need to reveal the weapon and the future of his career depended on it. Despite that, there was a genuine ray of happiness emanating from his eyes, all because in the sanctity of this hotel room, nothing mattered but the two of you, tangled up in bed, lavishing every centimeter of your bodies with love.

Sharp teeth are digging into the pillowy softness of each breast and you elongate your neck in utmost delight; one hand seeking support on the back of his head while the other grazed at your own neck. Down, down his lips trailed, making a path from each rib, following the oddly scattered moles and marks all the way to your navel. He effortlessly settles each of your thighs on his shoulders and before you know it he’s diving right in -- the teasing all forgotten.

His tongue dives in deep into you, gathering up your juices in his tongue. His velvety tongue, his hot mouth, his deep groans reverberating against your tender folds -- it’s maddening, it’s gorgeous. He wastes no time, yearns to have you unravelling before him, to give you as much pleasure as he could in return for what you were about to do to him.

His grasp on your thighs will no doubt leave bruises, the harder he squeezes them in retaliation to you circling your hips and clenching your cunt, desperately seeking release yet wanting to prolong it at the same time -- you didn’t quite know what to do. All you could focus on was the sinful noises he made as he slurped all of you, groaned at the taste, worked his jaw to fuck you so deeply with his tongue. You close your eyes and open your mouth to yell but no sound comes out -- as all breath is robbed from you when he moves to suck on your swollen clit and you’re paralized, broken and disintegrating in pieces with that first orgasm, so quick and potent as it took you by surprise and kept twirling in your core.

It peaked and then turned into lazy waves, perennial yet strong enough to not quite subside; no, those waves of electricity were only re-charging, waiting to burst yet again.

Hux climbs up on you again, kissing you, willing you to taste yourself and see the culprit that had made his cock rock hard against his belly. You’re so lost in your haze, in his scent -- his clean musk mixing up with the saltiness of sweat and the smell of your own cunt as he laps at your mouth, it’s intoxicating. You yelp in surprise when one of his fingers enters you, adding more energy to those electric currents stirring up in you. He pumps his finger once, twice, three times and you lose count before he’s adding another one, scissoring them again and again and again.

Time is non-existent as your senses zero-in on the feeling as he adds another finger and stars fucking into you viciously, so hard it makes the most explicit noises when his hand pumps into your pussy. Your moans come in quick little breaths, high-pitched sighs that derive into a pained groan when you’re cunt clenches and spasms around another orgasm that Hux is milking, milking with unrelenting thrusts. You clutch onto his shoulders and try to hang on as those previous, delicious waves travel all over your body, so, so mercilessly.

Hux pecks sweet, light kisses to your temple as you slowly come to your senses, and you weaky turn your head to catch one of those with your own lips. You notice he’s reaching one arm behind him to grab the vibrating egg but you stop him. “That’s enough, darling. I have to keep my wits about me,” you laugh at his disappointed look. “This is all about you, remember? Lie back for me please, on the pillows”  
He nods, sighing against your mouth before obeying, looking utterly cocky at the sight of you: hair a tousled mess and blushing all over.

But that smirk on his face fades as you straddle him, with delicate pecks to the underside of his jaw, on one side, then the other, down to the column of his neck, while your hips lazily rolled and grazed against his own -- your drenched folds teasing the hard weight of his cock that rested against his stomach.  
Blindly, as you continue your sweet array of kisses, you reach for the strap-on, dildo already in place. “Will you put this on me please, Armitage?” You murmur, teeth catching his bottom lip before kissing him.

Before complying, his palms span each of your thighs, smoothing over your sides, your waist, holding you like the most precious treasure, as if testing the surface he was about to adorn with that fake cock. Once it’s properly adjusted, you make a show of unclasping the bottle of lube and holding it up to watch the slick pour down on the length of the dildo while biting your lip.

“So this is what my husband wanted, huh? What the mighty General Hux wants, hmmm? To be fucked by his wife?”

Armitage loved you because you were strong. You were able, independent, fiercely intelligent. And he was immensely proud and considered himself lucky to have watched you blossom into the woman you were, over the years. Everytime he got to watch you in your workplace, move about in your own element, an intense fire rose within his chest. It excited him, all your power, how you brought weaker men to their knees. Just earlier he had witnessed you defend yourself from some sleazy art critic that was trying to flirt with you, had murdered him with one icy glare. And you looked so regal, so professional as you gave your speech at the inauguration. So now, to see you above him like this, turned all his insides into mush, his brain short-circuiting as all the blood in his system travelled south. “Yes…” he breathlessly utters.

“Tell me what you want, Armitage”

With the way he looked at you as you stroked that fake cock you were nearly fainting in the spot, couldn’t even keep up with the task of putting on this performance for him. Those green eyes turned darker and darker with each circling of your hips, each pass of your tongue over your lips.

“I want you to fuck me”

“Hmmm, what was that? Aren’t you missing the magic word?” you grind against him more intently, face inching closer and closer, not yet kissing him.

“Please, I want you to fuck me, (Y/N)....” His eyes go half-mast at the sensation of your juices trailing all over his pelvis as you move above him -- his pre-cum and yours mixing, pooling on his abdomen… “Please, darling…”

You hum and reward him with a kiss, hum before slipping your tongue inside his mouth and feed off of his desperation.

You start travelling downwards, marking every inch of that soft skin while breathing in his scent, resting your cheek against his tummy to feel him fluttering as he tried to compose his breath when he had you so close to his aching cock.

And it’s cruel, but you disregard it, earning you a pained, pained groan from his arching neck.

“Shh…” you breathe against his skin, wandering hands stroking the inside of his creamy thighs, soothing in circles until they reach closer to his hole.

“D-do you want me to turn around?”

“No, I want to see you...see all of you”

You guide him to open up his legs for you and place a pillow on his lower back, pouring a liberal amount of lube on your fingers to begin the task of preparing him. You never took your gaze off him, wanting to test his reaction with every move of your fingers inside of him.

The reward was heavenly: mouth opened around a perfect “o”, eyes pinched closed with his pale neck exposed to you in utter submission. You had never seen him like that; it was such an erotic scene, yet there was an innocence to his reactions, a boyish wonder each time your slick fingers scissoredhim, twisted inside him, stroked and stroked until they passed around a particular spot that had him tensing, with one hand fisting the sheets and the other reaching for your hand. Seeing him made you feel as if your heart was about to combust, you could only tighten your grip on his hand.

“You like that, darling?” you whisper in fear of disrupting the energy all around, his trance.

“Y-y-yes, ohhh, please, (Y/N)...”

“Please what, my darling?”

“Ahh, just -- please get inside me”

“You’ve been so good…” your mouth waters at the wanton moan you pull from him as you get your fingers out of him and pour more lube into the dildo. “So, so good…”  
You climb on top of him once again, heart doing a little flip as his hand doesn’t abandon yours.

Slowly, ever so slowly, you enter him -- inch by leisured inch, Hux’s breath trapping inside his throat. His eyes are huge when he looks at you -- eyebrows stitched together, in amazement, in awe at the sensations you provoqued in him with this new world you were exploring.  
You moan in unison as you bottom out, your pelvis bumping against his, creating a glorious friction on your clit that you were not expecting -- and it was so sensitive already from having come twice, that you feel, as you start pumping in and out of Hux, that you might come again by the might those little thumps.

You set a gentle pace first, weary of hurting him -- of the strap-on getting loose. Surrounded in that intimacy, you gaze at each other, really take the time to stare at Armitage: his sharp cheekbones even sharper as he tensed his jaw and chewed at his bottom lip, at his pale eyelashes fluttering, fighting against the tears building up in his eyes as you angled up your hips. You must’ve found his prostate for how those eyes shut tight in delicious pain.

You capture his groans in your mouth, distracting him from your next move.

As you accelerate the pace, you spit on your mouth and envelop his cock in the palm that wasn’t holding his, stroking him in tune with your thrusts.

“Ohhh fuck!…(Y/N)!” He grunts and grunts against your lips in an effort to hold on as you fuck him faster and faster and faster -- the harder you grind, the more thrilling it is, that bundle of nerves pulsing and pulsing.

“Armitage!” your moan is lewd and hoarse, hoarse from the effort of supporting yourself on your wobbly thighs, of plunging into him faster still, harder, harder, harder.

You almost forget to stroke his length, you were merely holding it in your fist, like a make-shift cock ring to keep his orgasm at bay.

When you pick up the pace of your hand, his pants come in quick breaths poured into your mouth, his hold on your hand furious, knuckles white as you move faster, harder, harder still...

Your shrieks are high-pitched, you can’t hold it anymore. Your forehead drops against Hux’s and the two become a pair of scrunching eyes, clutching hands, a harmony of crude, decadent sounds.

You realize that the bumps on your clit were taunting -- not enough, no, not yet, not yet...but Hux, he is right there on the cliff’s edge, he’s dripping sweat and flushed all over, the skin of his plump lip threatening to break from how hard he’s gritting his teeth.

“You’re ready, Armitage? Ready, my love?”

“Yes, yes, yes, please, (Y/N), please!”

“Alright darling, come for me! Come all over me” you tighten your fist as you quickly pump his cock, up and down, faster, tighter -- your hips frantic and sloppy but no less intense, willing the strap on to stay fixed in its place and not interrupt this wonderful succession of deep thrusts.

The air is tense and then Hux breaks, groaning and grunting as one long erupts from within his chest, as white ropes of cum are splattering over his stomach and chest. You milk every single drop, milking him for all he had to give. “That’s it, darling, you did so well, you’re so good…” you murmur against his temple, easing him from his high and gingerly pulling out.

“Did--did you?”

“Shh, it’s okay, darling...I don’t have to” but he shakes his head, even amidst his dazed state; he carefully removes the strap-on and grabs the vibrating egg. You slump beside him, with one leg draped over his hip and your arms holding onto his shoulders.

He clumsily turns on the egg and rests it against your clit -- vigorous shocks assault your bundle of nerves in such a flash that you’re a shrieking mess of tensing thighs, trying to clench them shut and trap the device in, in, in...it’s too much, you’re so, so weak and yet you’re a vibration away...right -- _there_!  
“OHHH! Armitage!” you plead and plead and plead, legs clamping up around him, not sure how to deal with all the waves of pleasure singing in your veins, circuiting over and over again, all over you.

He turns down the intensity of the vibrations, little by little until they stop altogether, leaving your cunt spasming and pulsing, your vision filled with spots due to all your heated blood, all that exertion. Next thing you know you’re being wrapped up in Hux’s embrace as your own haze dissipates.

You remain tangled in a hug for what seemed like an endless time, until your breaths were back to normal and the smiles that paint your faces are so wide, so pleased, they can’t even close around a proper kiss.

“So how was that for our first time pegging?”

He sighs, swollen lips moving against your own. “Amazing. Thank you for this, (Y/N)”

“No need to thank me, Armitage. I love you”

You caress his cheek, feel his fevered skin underneath your thumb and guide him for another kiss. No matter how adventurous you might get in the bedroom, these bits were your favorite. The dewey, mellow dome that formed from your combined afterglow and hid you from all the adversity from the outside; the sacred space where you were free to exchange sweet, sweet kisses until the both of you surrendered to sleep.

In fact, sometimes you feel as though you didn’t kiss him right...might as well try again.

He smiles as he returns your embrace, as his hold on the small of our back tightens, bringing you in even closer as his own declaration of love.

“Happy birthday, my love”

**Author's Note:**

> come shout at me on tumblr at : @theold-ultraviolence <3


End file.
